


February Fifteenth is the Best Time to Get Candy

by GothBunny



Series: My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [6]
Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Beer, Candy, Candy Hearts, Candy Hearts taste like chalk, Chocolate, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Tickle Fights, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothBunny/pseuds/GothBunny
Summary: Duff and Steven buy way too much candy since it was all on sale. Hijinks ensue.
Relationships: Steven Adler/Duff McKagan
Series: My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585123
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	February Fifteenth is the Best Time to Get Candy

“Hey Popcorn, how many chocolates can you fit in your mouth?” It was the day after Valentine’s Day, and Duff and Steven had gone and bought four grocery bags full of half-priced chocolates and other assorted Valentine’s themed candy. Duff had also brought out his stash of alcohol, and the two friends were now moderately intoxicated, sitting in Steven’s bedroom surrounded by half-empty boxes of sweets. The afternoon sun was shining through the single grimy window, casting warm light across the thin, beige carpet, painting the dirty gray walls with broad stripes of light. Duff’s legs were stretched out in front of him, acting as a table for the twelve empty conversation hearts boxes he had devoured. They still tasted like flavored chalk, but they were sweet, and someone would have to eat them eventually. He took another swig of vodka to cleanse his palate before grabbing one of the unopened boxes of Whitman’s chocolate, tossing a second one at Steven’s head. 

He was more intoxicated than he thought and missed his target wildly, laughing as Steven made a dive for the airborne chocolates, catching them before they hit the floor and all broke. The blond held up the box triumphantly, grinning, and began stuffing the chocolates into his mouth, counting them out as he shoved them into his face. “One. Two. Three. Mmpf, four. Five. Six. Se-” Candy threatened to spill out of Steven’s mouth, and the blond gracefully shoved it all back in. “Seven. Eight.” The more chocolate the blond put into his mouth, the worse his pronunciation of the numbers became. “‘Ine. ‘En. E’efen. ‘Welfe.” At thirteen, they all came spilling out, much to Steven’s disgruntlement. Giggling like mad, Duff began to stuff his own face with the sweets.

Duff only made it to eleven, which filled Steven with a petty, childish pride. He rose up from his seat on his bed, which was really just an old twin-sized mattress on the floor, and using a blanket as a cape, began dancing around the room, boasting of his abilities to fit large objects in his mouth, which they both found hilarious. “I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN! I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN! I AM THE CHOCOLATE EATING KING! I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN!” Duff curled up into a shaking ball of hysterical laughter, empty chocolate wrappers falling from his lap. The shorter blond spun around, blanket cape flowing out behind him. “I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN!” Steven lost his balance and stumbled into the wall, snickering like an idiot. Duff found the blond’s antics hilarious.

Steven righted himself from his drunken loss of balance and waltzed over towards his friend, plopping down in front of the bass player, staring up at him through the blond hair that had fallen into his face. Duff looked back at him grinning and dumped an entire box of conversation hearts into his mouth. “Duffy…” Steven whined, staring at the pile of empty chocolate wrappers. “Save some candy for me…”

“You want candy?” Duff asked, eating another chocolate, grinning at the burst of cream in the middle, and held up what he thought was a caramel. “Then you’re gonna have’ta come and get it, Stevie.” The blond giggled at the nickname, and leaned forward, opening his mouth. Duff fed him the candy, but not before smearing it across his face, neither of them able to accurately determine where his mouth was in relation to the chocolate due to intoxication. 

“Shotgun?” asked Duff, retrieving two cans of beer and a corkscrew, which he used to poke a hole near the bottom of both cans, handing one to his friend. Steven held the can up to his mouth, using his lips to seal over the hole Duff had created to prevent any of the beer from spilling out. When the other blond nodded, he popped up the tab, letting air begin flowing into the can, sucking hard as beer began flowing rapidly into his mouth. 

Laughing as some of it ran down his chin, Steven finished the beer, chucking the empty can at the wall. Giggling, he blinked rapidly in an attempt to bring the two Duffs sitting in front of him into focus; fuck, how drunk was he? Gazing at his friend, the hyperactive drummer was struck with an idea, which made him laugh harder. “Lemme braid your hair…”

Duff looked at him confusedly. “Wha…?”

“I wanna braid your hair… Gonna make you look like a princess…” Somehow, the idea of braiding Duff’s hair was strangely alluring in Steven’s intoxicated mind. Not that he had much experience with hair braiding, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

Seemingly persuaded, it wasn’t hard to convince Duff to do something after half a bottle of vodka, the bassist allowed himself to be led over to sit in front of Steven’s bed, leaning back on the palms of his hands, legs extended out in front of him. Steven sat down behind him, beginning to finger-comb the bleach-blond hair. 

“Do you even know how to braid hair, Stevie?” Duff chuckled, wincing as Steven’s fingers hit a knot.

“Uh…” Steven felt an alcohol-induced flush paint across the bridge of his nose. Duff laughed.

“So you’re gonna grab a section of hair and divide it into three parts.” 

Realizing that he was too short to see what he was doing, Steven rose up onto his knees, grumbling about Duff’s giraffe-like height. 

“What’s that Stevie?”

“You’re too tall,” Steven muttered, grabbing three roughly equal locks of Duff’s hair near the part-line.

“I think the problem is that you’re shrinking,” Duff snickered. “Now you’re gonna weave the first strand over the middle strand, then the last strand over the new middle strand, and then the first one over the middle one…” Steven carefully followed the bassist’s instructions. First strand over middle strand, last strand over middle strand, first over middle, last over middle… 

Steven got halfway down his friend’s hair when he ran into trouble. First over middle, last over middle, first over middle, last over middle, first over middle, last over middle, last over middle, no wait, fuck, first over middle, where was he, first over middle, last over middle. Giving up, he dropped the half-finished braid and picked up a different section of hair. First over middle, last over middle. He ignored Duff’s giggles at his inability to form a braid but accepted the dark chocolate covered cherry Duff offered him, pressing the bitter chocolate against his lips.

Duff had six half-finished braids in his hair before Steven gave up entirely, flopping back onto the bed beneath him, groaning in frustration. The bassist turned around to see why his friend had suddenly stopped tugging on his hair.

“Hey move over, I wanna lie on the bed too.” 

“Heck no. You’ll just hog the whole mattress.” 

Duff poked Steven’s cheek teasingly. “Language Stevie.”

“Heck you.”

“Stevie!” Duff cried, laughing with fake affrontation. 

“Heck heck heck heck heck,” Steven replied, stifling a giggle as Duff poked his side, hitting a ticklish spot.

“Oh.” Duff grinned evilly down at Steven, who shrank back into the blanket-covered mattress. “Are you ticklish?”

“No,” Steven replied stubbornly, pressing his arms tightly to his sides in an attempt to shield himself.

“Really?” Duff’s fingers squeezed their way under his arms, and Steven felt his breath catch as he felt fingertips press intimately against him. “What’s this then?” Duff began tickling his sides, causing the blond to start laughing, breath coming in short gasps.

Steven attempted to get away, chest heaving from laughter, but Duff grabbed his waist and dragged him back, attacking his sides with renewed vigor. The shorter blond shrieked, wiggling as Duff held him down, giggling as the man above him began tickling his neck, just above his shoulders. The blond managed to escape, finding himself on top of his adversary, grinning down at Duff, who’s hair was spread around his face like how light radiates from the sun, braids intermixed with the loose strands. 

“I win,” the shorter of the two declared, sitting on top of the bassist, preventing himself from being tickled further. 

“Oh really?” Duff laughed, attempting to get Steven off of him in order to continue his attack with tickles. “What if I rolled over?”

Steven screamed in surprise as Duff tipped the two of them over, wincing slightly as he fell off the bed, his back hitting the floor. He had about two seconds to get away before Duff wrapped his arms around his waist, tossing him lightly back onto the bed and resuming his tickle assault.

“Stop! Stop!” Steven cried out as Duff’s tickles moved up his sides to tickle just behind his armpits. “I can’t take it anymore!” Duff tickled harder, and Steven burst into another stream of shrieks and giggles. 

Flailing his arms, Steven finally managed to get his friend to let up, Duff chuckling the entire time. “It’s not fair,” he whined, still laughing. “I don’t know any of your tickle spots.” 

“And you won’t,” Duff laughed. “Because unlike you, I’m good at hiding things.”

Steven pouted, shaking the hair that had fallen into his face during their brief tickle war out of his eyes. “But Duffy…” He wrapped his thin arms around Duff’s shoulders in a loose hug.

“Stevie…” Duff’s eyes shone with laughter, a broad grin plastered across his face. His hands inched down, ending their journey close to Steven’s hips. There was a moment of silence, before Duff attacked the blond’s sides with tickles again, snorting at Steven’s exclamation of surprise. 

The fight was renewed, Steven trying to break free while Duff tickled him, the room filling with the golden sounds of their laughter. He half-heartedly smacked at Duff’s hands, giggling all the while. The tickle battle continued for a couple of hours until the afternoon sun had sunken down below the window, painting the sky a brilliant orange, akin to the color of California poppies. 

Duff had backed the fluffy-headed blond into a corner, using one hand to pin Steven’s hands above his head, the other relentlessly tickling his side, just above his waist. The drummer gasped for air, laughing hysterically. It wasn’t until Duff paused to catch his breath that he realized how intimate they were sitting. Duff’s face was inches away from his own, the bassist’s large hands pinning his own thin wrists against the painted drywall behind him. He met his friend’s eyes and Steven felt heat rush to his face, staining his nose and cheeks the color of pomegranate seeds. 

“Duffy?” Steven’s sky-colored eyes tracked the taller man’s movements as Duff leaned forward, barely hesitating, and kissed his nose lightly. He flushed, embarrassed, pinching his lower lip between his teeth. Duff offered no reply, instead releasing his wrists and bringing his hands down to lift the blond into his lap, continuing on to lightly dust Steven’s face with feather-light brushes of his lips. The blond lifted his chin up, exposing his neck, chest rising and falling in time to his rapid breathing. 

Taking his silent suggestion to heart, Duff began planting gentle kisses down the pale column of Steven’s throat, reaching the hollow between his collarbones before coming back up to capture his lips, smiling against his mouth as Steven’s breath caught. The younger man felt his arms move, seemingly of their own accord, to wrap around his counterpart’s shoulders. Duff leaned back, shoulder blades falling gently against the mattress, pulling Steven with him so the blond ended up lying on his chest. 

Steven giggled, feeling Duff’s hands run down his back to rest comfortingly above his hips, pulling his shirt up a little so he could feel calloused fingers gently pressing against the soft skin of his waist. He rested his head against the tall man’s chest, listening to Duff’s heart beat with the rise and fall of the body beneath him. The blond sighed with content. This was nice.

Duff felt Steven’s breathing level out, the comfortable weight above him becoming heavier as the blond fell asleep. He tried to carefully lift the drummer off of him, but Stevie just clutched him harder and refused to move. Deciding that not waking the blond was more important than getting a good night’s sleep, Duff sighed, resigning himself to his fate and drifting off himself.


End file.
